


Counting Bodies like Sheep (To the Rhythm of War Drums)

by cm (mumblemutter)



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Family, Blood, Crying, Incest, Kink Meme, Knotting, M/M, Minor Character Death, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-07
Updated: 2012-04-07
Packaged: 2017-11-03 05:19:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/377727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblemutter/pseuds/cm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik was born broken, their father always told Charles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counting Bodies like Sheep (To the Rhythm of War Drums)

Father only talked about mating in terms of strengthening the pack - he would trade his males for females in a heartbeat, except, he used to say, the two of them. "You're special," he'd say. "Bending minds and metal to your will, I wouldn't trade you in for anything."

Of course, neither one of them were as valued as Emma, who could read minds as well as breed, but her last litter of two laid her out for two months, and after that she declared herself done.

"No more," she snarled, and bit at anyone that came near her, including Father. "Stay the fuck away from me, Seb." Charles never knew if the twins were his siblings or not, Emma kept her mind blank to him, and protected Father's as well, so in the end he was free to wander in and out of anyone's head except for theirs. It was frustrating, especially since she enjoyed ordering everyone around as if she were the alpha, and Father indulged her in everything.

"I don't like her," Raven said once, her voice dark with fury. 

"Well what are you going to do about it," Charles asked. Raven was twelve. She was hardly in any position. 

I'll be breeding age soon," Raven said. And if Erik and Charles made Father proud, Raven who could be anyone at any time, she was the apple of his eye.

"Who will you choose," Charles asked curiously.

Raven gave him a yellow eyed glare. "Certainly not you." But that was a lie. When Raven fantasized, her fingers slick between her legs, it was always either Charles or Erik. Slightly more Charles than Erik, but then again Erik was always so distant and angry towards everyone, and deep down, Raven only wanted to be loved.

Some nights, Charles would admit, he did find Raven's natural form appealing. Mostly though, mostly - mostly he thought of Erik. Erik with his thin frame and hunched shoulders and the way he never looked anyone straight in the eye - Father said that Erik had been a difficult child, that they'd had to break him in order to put him together again, but honestly Charles thought that they never bothered with the putting back together again, just the breaking, and now all that was left of Erik was jagged edges and sharply defined sorrow, and a low level anxiety that enveloped him like a cloud.

Charles didn't mind much, it was intoxicating, far more than Raven's cheerful stubbornness or the twins and their airy birdlike chatter, if Alex and Sean had thoughts in their minds beyond hunting and food Charles certainly couldn't find it. Even Hank grew wearying, with his following Raven around constantly like a lovestruck pup.

So it was Erik then, as much as Erik didn't seem to think about mating often, or at all, honestly. Charles couldn't understand it. He was seventeen and he thought of nothing but. It might be because Erik was only fourteen, but then again Charles remembered fourteen and he was always thinking about mating back then as well.

Of course, back then he still thought he was interested in females, and he'd sniff out the females in the pack only to have them smack lazily at him and chase him away, slightly impatient but mostly indulgent, and Father would grab him by the scruff of the neck and say, "In time, son. In time."

"When," Charles always wanted to ask, because it seemed indefinite and his body certainly felt ready, but that always made Emma snort, so he just shut his mouth and kept on waiting.

But then, at some point Erik. Charles couldn't understand it at first, how he always wanted to be near him, to touch him - they were kin so it was only natural that they hunted together, but afterwards, when Erik was washing himself in the river, it was always all Charles could do not to just pounce on him, drive him to the ground and mount him until he screamed. It was distracting, to say the least, and he couldn't help himself.

On his part, Erik seemed to sense Charles' less than pure intentions, and it made him even more prickly, even more defensive. But it was only Charles, after all, so he wasn't protective enough. He didn't flinch away from Charles' touch, didn't seem to care that Charles was always watching him, always following after him. But still his thoughts were pure, and he didn't have the faintest clue as to what Charles was thinking.

Emma did, she said: "He's not yet ready, Charles."

"Your point?"

She only shrugged. "Oh, I don't care, honey. Go right ahead. Just don't let Seb find out."

"Why would father care?" Besides, Seb liked him far more than he liked Erik. Certainly he wasn't the one that had needed to be fixed, so very long ago.

"Of course he'll care. You can't just take what's his. Erik is his to give away." Her eyes narrowed. "And so are you. You don't get to choose."

"Hmm," Charles said.

Across the field, Erik stopped and stared at them both, eyes huge and worried. He knew they were talking about them, somehow. That was possibly Charles' favorite thing about Erik: he was always acutely aware of his surroundings, even as he dismissed Charles as being on this side of safe. As they both watched him, he turned and shifted out, ran into the overlying trees. "Disappointing," Emma muttered. "We thought he would be so much stronger."

"Don't give up on him yet," Charles said. "You have no idea what he's capable of."

He left Emma and chased after Erik, found him back in human form at the edge of the lake, drinking from the water. "Hey, Erik."

Erik barely looked up, muttered a disinterested "Hey," in reply before he went back to drinking his water. And oh, he was beautiful, like this, back bent so Charles could see every bone in the curve of his spine, every muscle that rippled as he moved. Charles wandered closer, gave in to the urge to put his hand on the back of Erik's neck. Erik started, but only grinned briefly up at him. "You thirsty?"

"No," Charles said, and drew him up into standing position. Erik blinked lazily at him, even younger than Charles he was almost as tall, and he would grow up taller than Charles, Charles already knew this, but for now he was just a little shorter, a little less strong, and when Charles tugged him away from the edge of the water he didn't protest, he didn't push him away. Not even when Charles shoved him down under the nearest tree, where the ground was soft and dense with moss. He only flinched slightly when Charles knelt in front of him, put his hand on his thigh. "You're really beautiful," Charles told him, and Erik laughed.

"Shut up, Charles. You're being silly." Erik still wasn't thinking seriously about this, his mind was scattered and idle, far too relaxed for a boy sitting naked underneath a tree.

"No, but you are." Erik finally looked away, idleness giving way to a slight tinge of nervousness, and not for the first time, Charles appreciated that this was his gift, that he could read the thoughts of others as clearly as everyone else heard words spoken out loud.

Of course that meant that he realized from a young age: everyone lied, and no-one ever said what they meant. Emma laughed, when he came to her crying once, because he'd been chased away by one of the wolves who claimed she was too busy to entertain him when really she just didn't want to look at his face, and she said, with her usual tinge of cruelty, "It's about time you learnt this, Charles."

Her body heavy with child back then, and when he put his ear to her stomach he could hear the baby, dreaming.

"Not him," Charles whispered. "He's happy." Her hand curled around the nape of his neck and she lifted him up to eye level, licked at his throat until he squirmed. "Another telepath," she said, and she wasn't entirely happy, but she didn't view him as a threat, either. He was only four; who knew how powerful he would become. Eventually she lost interest, and tossed him aside. He landed on all fours and snapped at her, then ran away as she laughed.

"Leave me alone," Erik said, brushing away Charles' hand with his own. Erik didn't like being touched, most of the time, but Charles was working on that as well. It wasn't hard; they were siblings, and they hunted together, and in winter, when it was cold, Erik genuinely needed the warmth and Charles genuinely wanted to offer it. But now Erik was just being skittish, for no reason other than he could sense Charles' intentions were less than pure.

"Relax," Charles said, and he threw himself down onto the grass next to Erik, pressing their sides together casually. "I just meant." He turned to Erik, eyes widened, and said, "Erik, do you ever think about kissing?"

"You're the mind-reader," Erik said gruffly. "Can't you tell."

"No, silly. Of course not I don't read your mind. I know you don't want me to."

Erik only snorted, and he was always the most suspicious of boys. But then his gaze turned thoughtful. "I hear father, sometimes, talking about breeding me out. Not you, because he won't risk another telepath being born outside the pack, there's already talk of a female in the North who can read minds and move things with her hands - but he says my genome is strong enough that the tribes would want me but not so that I would breed threats." He sounded disgusted at the thought of that, and Charles could feel his confusion. 

He put his hand on Erik's back, and this time Erik didn't flinch. Instead he relaxed into Charles' touch as Charles mind-whispered to him, _Relax._ It wasn't a push, just a mere ghost of a suggestion, but Erik was already a pent up dam strung together by spit and rope, on the verge of breaking entirely, and it didn't take much. His eyes closed and he leaned into Charles. Charles nuzzled his cheek, then his neck, said, "Lie down, Erik." 

Erik complied easily enough, his eyes still closed and his body limp and willing, but when Charles started touching him tentatively, on his chest, his belly, lower, Erik's eyes opened and the lull he was under snapped. "What are you doing," Erik asked, and he sounded so innocent, so lost. It made Charles want to kiss him, over and over again, until he forgot who he was.

Until he forgot who they both were. But then. He let his hand fall down, and said, "You're my brother. I just want to touch you." Which was true, at least. Even if he wanted to do much more. But then only because he loved Erik. "I love you," he said, because Erik didn't hear that often enough, or at all, and Erik inhaled, sharp.

He only said though, "Then don't. I don't want-"

A lock of his hair had fallen in front of his eyes. Charles pushed it back as gently as he could, and Erik turned his face up into it. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to, Erik."

"Don't we," Erik said bitterly. "You could make me do anything at all."

"But it's more fun if you want it too." Possibly. It wasn't as if Charles had much experience in the matter. It should matter, if Erik's pleasure were his own. Anything Charles could force onto him wouldn't last long enough for the next time, anyway.

"Then I don't want it," Erik snapped, pushing Charles back slightly.

Charles blinked at him. "But I love you."

"No. It doesn't." He shook his head, and his hair fell into his eyes once again. This time Charles didn't brush it away.

"Leave me be."

"Okay," Charles growled, and slumped back into the tree, frustrated and annoyed. "But you're a cocktease, just like all the rest of the females here."

"I am not," Erik said. Charles stared pointedly at Erik's crotch, where his cock was at least half-hard. Erik turned beet-red.

"Don't you ever want anything," Charles asked.

"I want to get away from here," Erik replied. He kept staring at his crotch, as if he were willing it to go away. And he was. Charles frowned at that.

"You don't have to be afraid," he said, and scooted forward once again. Erik scampered away, but only slightly. He raised himself up onto his elbows and Charles tried touching him again, on the bicep this time.

If he wanted this, and he wanted this, he would have to be careful. Emma's voice, in his ear, "Sure you can make them want it honey, but you should make them want it." and it was true anyway, he loved Erik, more than he loved anything. more than he'd known he had room for.

It was his one secret, the one thing he kept from everyone else and made sure they forgot if they suspected, even Emma. this was private. this was Erik, staring expectantly at him, unresisting as Charles leaned down to kiss him. 

Softly at first, then harder when Erik opened his mouth under him. He tasted, oh he tasted perfect, wild and delicate and uncertain, even his body surged into Charles'. Charles moaned and jerked his hips against Erik's thigh, just to relieve some of the pressure, he was so hard it was almost unbearable, just from this.

Erik shivered at that, and Charles whispered in his mouth, "It's okay, it's fine," soothing him until he calmed down, because Charles couldn't take it if they stopped. Not now, not like this. instead he broke the kiss and slid down Erik's body, nestled himself in between his knees. Erik groaned and made a half hearted attempt to push Charles'' head away, but Charles only held on to the inside of his thighs until he stopped trembling and his head fell back. It was easy enough to part his legs even further, Erik was still smaller than him in frame and Charles' hands almost spanned the width of his thighs.

"Erik," Charles breathed, and bit down on soft flesh until Erik yelped.

"Stop," he whispered, as Charles soothed the bite with a kiss, one he trailed further up his inner thigh until he reached the part he'd been aiming for. Charles tried a finger at first, and Erik clenched desperately around it. He didn't stop when Charles replaced it with his tongue, but he liked it more. Charles inhaled, lost in scent, in taste, delirious with it as he thrust his tongue again and Erik squirmed, and arched his back, and, abruptly, opened for him. Erik moaned as Charles thrust again and again with his tongue, and he didn't know what he was doing, honestly he didn't, but the waves of pleasure coming from Erik were overriding everything else, his doubt and his confusion and his fear and even as he continued to breathe out soft _nos_ most of him was screaming _don't stop don't stop don't stop_

Charles lifted his head and Erik's cock was jutting up, hard and dark into his belly. It seemed too big for his small frame, took up too much space it rested against his stomach. Charles wrapped his fingers around it experimentally and slid down and up along it, using his thumb to brush across the head and above the foreskin. This time Erik merely gasped, and when he opened his eyes to look at Charles Charles could see himself suddenly, pink cheeked and wild-eyed, hair stuck up everywhere, kneeling between his brother's legs with his cock in his hand and his other hand working furiously on his own cock.

If Emma could see them now; but she wouldn't care, not Emma, not the way Father would. But Charles wasn't afraid of Father, that was for Erik. And after this. After this Erik would be his, and he wouldn't have to ever be afraid either. Charles knelt back on his heels and threw his head back, howled at the moon, stretched his vocal chords out so it was a proper mating call, fierce and free. After a while another howl joined his, and Charles glanced down in surprise at Erik, mouth open as he echoed Charles' call, albeit softer and with more restraint.

"Erik," Charles said, when he finally needed to stop. He reached forward, but instead of responding, Erik scrambled to his feet, fear bright and burning in every inch of his frame, turned and ran to the water. He was shifted by the time he hit it, a tiny brown wolf in a big lake, paddling desperately into the middle.

Charles followed him to the edge, but didn't wade in. "You don't have to hide from me," he called out. Erik ignored him. In wolf form, Charles couldn't hear his thoughts. It was maddening, so he stripped down and put a tentative foot in. Erik started splashing some more, and Charles didn't have to be a genius to figure out he was trying for the other side.

It was far, but he could probably make it if he were determined enough; and one thing that Erik had, it was determination. Charles glanced back briefly in the direction of the camp, but no-one had even noticed that they were gone. Then he shifted out and splashed into the lake after Erik.

They ran for what seemed like miles, once Erik made it to the other side and Charles dragged himself out after him, close enough to nip at his heels. Erik turned and snarled, and Charles reared back, snapped his teeth towards the nape of Erik's nape. _Shift back_ , he whined, but Erik only twisted his body away from him and bound away. Charles chased after Erik, almost always managing to only get close enough to flank him before Erik noticed he'd caught up and put on a burst of speed, using his lighter weight to propel him away from Charles. It was ages before he tired down, and by that time they were far enough away from the pack that when Erik stopped finally it was in front of a barn, dark and looming in front of them.

Charles padded up behind him, and Erik bolted forward, ran into the open barn doors. It was foolish, Erik knew that; you messed with the humans and their buildings and they came after you with pitchforks and guns. Worse. But Erik didn't seem to care, and after a while, Charles warily trotted in. The barn seemed abandoned, thankfully, and when he shifted back into human form he couldn't hear minds of anyone, except in the distance.

Inside, Erik was lying gracelessly on a bale of hay, shifted back as well, panting and exhausted. Charles fell to his knees in front of him and Erik bared his teeth, but it was without rancor. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his skin and his hair was stuck to his forehead. Thoughtlessly, Charles reached out, and Erik snapped.

The pain wasn't immediate, Charles noticed the blood first, pouring from his hand. A wolf bite, and he blinked as Erik retracted his teeth, but then the pain hit and he wasn't paying attention to Erik anymore. It wasn't that bad, and the pain retracted soon enough to a dull ache as the blood started to clot, but for a while he was just staring at it, and he could hear Erik's jagged, guilt-laden breathing as he stared as well.

"I'm sorry," Erik said finally. "I didn't mean-"

"Well obviously you did," Charles said crossly. "Or you wouldn't have done it."

The resulting flash of regret from Erik was enough though, for his temper to abide. He put his hand forward, and Erik flinched as if he was about to be hit, but Charles only pressed his palm to his face, smeared the blood across his cheek, his chin, and finally his mouth. Erik grabbed it at some point, held it to his lips and sucked until the wound started bleeding even more freely, and Charles felt dizzy for a moment, but eventually it passed and he just settled down on the hay next to Erik, slid close to him until their bodies were pressed together.

When Erik released his hand Charles kissed him, slid his tongue between his teeth to taste his own blood mingling with Erik's scent. Erik pulled away after a while, turned his head to the ceiling.

"We're near the city," he said, his voice tinged with awe.

"How can you tell," Charles mumbled drowsily. But he wasn't wrong. When Charles cast his mind out he could hear a crush of voices, enough of them that he had to consciously pull back, wall himself off from it in case he got lost.

Emma would venture close to the city sometimes to hunt, but she always returned complaining of a headache, and she would tell Charles, "It's vulgar, the loudness of all their voices. I can only shut it out for so long before I want to vomit."

Erik said though, and again he was awed, and yearning. "There's so much metal there. I can feel it. It's beautiful."

"Yes," Charles said, staring at Erik.

"Stop it." He growled again, and tucked his head under Charles' chin. His chest was still heaving slightly when he said, "Why do you want this so badly."

"Because I want you."

"Yes, but why."

"Because. Don't you ever think about me, Erik." He brought his hand up to the nape of Erik's neck, buried his fingers in his hair. "Because I think about you all the time." To the point of distraction. Lack of sleep, lack of focus. Always: Erik Erik _Erik._

"Not that way." He hesitated before he added, softly, "Not before now."

"You don't have to be afraid." Charles let a tinge of persuasion enter his voice, his thoughts, but Erik wasn't convinced at all. Instead he stiffened, but when he tried to pull away Charles held him still. "Don't," he said. "I don't want to chase you again."

"What did you do," Erik said, his voice small and scared as he tried once again, futilely, to pull away, but his body was frozen into place. Another trick Charles learnt from Emma, though he was far better at it than she was, as much as she tried to convince herself it wasn't true.

"Nothing. Just made it so you can't shift out. I'll make it stop if you promise to stay."

"No, I will not -" He shook his head angrily, but when Charles refused to budge he gave up quickly enough, said, with some sullenness, "I promise."

"Your word, Erik."

"My word," Erik choked the word out, and Charles released him.

"I hate you," Erik said, the second he was free, fists flailing at Charles until Charles had to grab them, twist them behind his heaving chest. "I didn't promise I wouldn't hit you," he said, as Charles tentatively probed at his split open lower lip with his tongue, where one of Erik's fists had managed to land.

"You don't hate me," Charles said. He spit out blood, and some of it landed on Erik's chest. Erik struggled again, and tightened his grip until he was certain it hurt. "Stop it or I swear," he said, making his voice mild, like Father's at his most dangerous, and Erik immediately stilled, although his breath hitched. "I will let you go if you promise - just don't try to get away. Is that clear enough." Erik nodded mutely.

When Charles released him his hands came up to rest on Charles' shoulders, fingers slick against his skin. Charles was hard again. It was all the blood, maybe. Or just Erik's body twisting against his, and his fear, and his underlying need above all else.

"Don't hurt me," Erik said, voice choked somewhat.

"I would never," Charles replied fiercely. "I wouldn't." He wiggled one hand between the two of them, wrapped his fingers around Erik's flaccid cock. "This is good. You'll see." A few strokes was all it took, and Erik was burying his face in Charles' neck once again, thrusting his hips forward desperately. He liked this, wanted it, Charles could feel it wafting off him like heat, could hear it in the unsteady beat of his heart. Charles pulled back and put his free hand on Erik's chest, said calmly, "Look at this. Look at yourself, Erik. do you see."

Erik lowered his gaze and groaned, bit his lip. A whisper. "I want. I want." The image made Charles' toes curl, of his mouth wrapped around - he scooted down, pushed Erik back, not caring that the hay was prickling at his skin. It tasted like blood, when Charles licked tentatively at the head, but then he realized it was just his hand, the bite wound opening once again. Charles didn't even notice the pain anymore, not with Erik's cock hot in his mouth and his own, heavy in between his legs.

It wasn't like this, all the times he fantasized about it, his own hand slick around his cock as Erik slept peacefully and unaware nearby. Charles had imagined it countless times, but nothing even came remotely close, as Erik canted his hips and his cock slid past Charles' lips, and he started when his teeth grazed sensitive flesh, but Charles only opened his mouth wider still to accommodate him.

Charles hollowed his cheeks and pushed his hand in between Erik's legs, but he wasn't prepared for the sudden burst of pleasure, and Erik coming, hot and dizzy and _oh oh oh_ down his throat. He reared back because he couldn't breathe, and the rest of it splashed against his cheek and mouth. "Aaaahh," Charles said, and licked unconsciously at his lips.

"I'm sorry," Erik said, after a while, when Charles crawled up his body to kiss him, to smear blood and come on his face as well. "I didn't mean."

"It's okay, shhh." Charles felt a burst of love, almost otherworldly in intensity, and he sent it out, wrapped it around Erik, who responded to it like a dying plant to the sun. "Oh," Charles said, and it was so easy, offering this, of all things.

He kissed Erik again, lazy and languid and almost missed it when Erik mumbled, "Okay. You can, if you want."

Charles shook. "Are you sure," he asked. He didn't want Erik to change his mind. What if Erik changed his mind. Erik was already turning onto his hands and knees though, arching his spine and displaying himself.

"I'm sure," Erik said, but it was a hushed sigh more than anything else.

"I'm not sure," Charles said, uncertain now, even though it was what he wanted more than anything. More than _anything._ His cock was so hard it hurt, leaking and ready and waiting for Erik.

Erik said, "Please," and hung his head.

Charles said, "No, turn around." He swallowed. "I want." To see your face.

"Why." Erik grimaced, and when Charles touched his face it came away freshly wet, tears mingling with drying come and blood.

"I like seeing you like this," Charles admitted.

Erik spun around and sat down with a furious thump, wiping his arm across his face angrily. "You're just like them," he spat out, his rage sudden and intense. "You just enjoy-" Charles couldn't even deny it wasn't true. There was nothing wrong with _him._ He wasn't the one that had needed to be fixed. Couldn't be fixed, truth be told. Charles darted forward and bit at Erik's face, lapped up all that he could as Erik squirmed and gasped, until he face was clean once again, save for the tears that wouldn't stop coming.

"Lie down, okay," and Erik jerked his head into a nod and complied. He kept his legs primly shut, but parted them when Charles slid his knee in between. "Wider," Charles commanded, and Erik shook his head even as he did just that, bent his knees up and let his thighs fall open. "Oh, Erik," Charles breathed. His fingers were still wet, come or tears or blood Charles couldn't tell, he spat onto them to make them even wetter, and slid one against Erik's hole.

Erik twitched and said, "Just do it already."

"I promised I wouldn't hurt you."

"I can take it."

"Speak from experience, do you." He tried another finger, and Erik opened up, same as he did earlier, exhaled and then Charles was inside, crooking his fingers and searching for - _there_ , as Erik gave a startled yelp and his hips rose off the ground. He was hard again, Charles noticed idly.

"You're not that big." His eyes were huge, daring Charles on. It always struck Charles as odd that though they were siblings, they didn't look anything alike. Even their eyes were different shades of blue.

"Patience." Erik was just so tight. Charles kept twisting his fingers, but he didn't seem to loosen up much more, and it was a struggle just to get a third one in. It might be easier in wolf form, but that was. Charles hated it, not being connected to his abilities. Not being able to sense the thoughts. Especially Erik, who just wanted it over with now, and it made Charles want to do the opposite. Want to draw it out, make him beg. His cock didn't seem to agree with that plan though, already the desire was unfurling at his spine, driving him forward, almost beyond thought as he blinked sweat out of his eyes. 

"Say please," Charles said.

"No." His voice turned small a second later, begging. "Please." Charles removed his fingers, and replaced it slowly with his cock. As slowly as he could, hot tight _friction_ but it didn't matter, Erik still yowled, and beat at him, and the pain, Charles held on to his arms, pressed down on top of him, drove in inch by painful inch, until he couldn't take it anymore, until the distress and the pleasure were both bearing down too hard on the back of his skull, and he just jammed himself in with one hard thrust, shoving his arms around Erik's back so he couldn't throw him off.

It seemed like an eternity, they lay exactly like that, Erik's harsh and pained breathing in his ear, peppered with sobs. He was crying for real now, loud and anguished, and every breath he took sent a spiral of pleasure up Charles' spine, as much as he felt tears on his own cheeks. The barn was shaking slightly, and Charles heard faint pops that he realized was metal popping out of wooden struts. He sent a burst of _calm_ over, just so Erik wouldn't send the entire structure crashing over them both, and the popping sound stopped.

"Is it over," Erik asked, at some point, and he sounded so incredibly young.

"No," Charles said, and the question was enough for him to clear the fog from his head, echoed as it was with memories that weren't his, of Erik screaming and Father's face leaning over as Emma held him still, telling him _That's a good boy, you want to get better, don't you_ , and a spike jammed, sharp into his skull. Charles pulled away from the memory violently, brought himself back to Erik, waiting for him.

He slid out, almost all the way, and slammed back in, and this time it wasn't hurt that was fed back to him, so he did it again, and again, with Erik's knees pressed to his sides and his fingers scrambling for purchase on his sweat-slick shoulders. "Oh. _Oh._ " Erik said, and dropped his head back to expose the line of his throat. Charles licked at his pulse point, and the knot, oh - "I can't," Erik pleaded, quiet and still.

"You can," Charles held on to his hips, and it was. Pain, to the point of blinding, exquisite and concentrated, followed by a violent sort of bliss, and the entire universe seemed to expand, and contract at the same time, and Charles shook, and came for what seemed like forever, and then Erik came, and it started all over again.

When he collapsed, finally, on top of Erik, he couldn't move for the longest time, until he felt Erik's hands on his back, patting him restlessly.

Charles turned his head, kissed the shell of Erik's ear. "Are you allright?"

"I'm okay. You said you wouldn't hurt me." He sounded faintly accusatory, even though Charles couldn't sense any rage coming from him, only a mild sort of relief.

"I know, I promised. Next time it will be easier."

"You promise," Erik said, and he sounded so hopeful. Charles disentangled himself from him and helped him to his feet. They were both covered in hay, bits of it stuck to sweat and other bodily fluids.

"I do." He leaned forward to kiss him again. Erik trembled, but he relaxed when Charles wrapped his arm around his neck. "You're mine now," Charles said fiercely. "Understand?" Erik nodded his head, slumped into him.

They returned back to the pack eventually, followed their path backwards. Erik was subdued for most of it, even though Charles kept playfully nipping at his throat at regular intervals.

Emma was sitting on a log, delicately picking at a piece of meat. Charles sloped towards her and went boneless at her feet, until she picked him up by the scruff of his neck and sniffed. "Oh, child you're in trouble now," she said, and cackled.

Charles growled and smacked at her arm, but she only laughed and tossed him aside carelessly, turning to diamond and then back again as soon as he was far from reach. Charles scrambled up, onto all fours, but she retreated back into her diamond form and finally he gave up, padded quietly towards her instead, head bowed, until she sat back down and scratched him idly behind the ears.

"For the best," she said, after a while, her voice flat. "I was tired of Seb anyway." Charles didn't understand what she meant, until Father returned, dragging Erik behind him by his hair.

He tossed Erik at Emma's feet and grabbed Charles as he tried to scramble away. Charles shifted back, but even in human form he couldn't escape from Father's grip. "You," he said easily, without inflection, which meant he was livid. "Who gave you permission."

"I wasn't aware I needed it," Charles said, lifting his chin up defiantly. There was still a veil of white around his thoughts, Emma's shield, and Charles tried pushing and as usual was met with a deafening wall of sound.

Father exhaled, as if Charles were a particularly stupid child. "Nothing happens here without my willing it. Nothing." He shoved at Charles and he fell down, but there were arms around him and it was Erik, pulling him backwards. Erik was terrified, but there was an undercurrent of something else as well, something dark and heady and powerful. Rage, so much rage, just seething inside. Charles leaned into him and sighed, tried pushing at the wall again, but it was useless.

Emma stood up, and Father said, wagging his finger reproachfully at her. "I blame you. You indulge them, especially Charles. Just because he's a telepath doesn't mean you get to coddle him."

"Oh please, Seb." The glance she shot him was this side of disdainful. "As if I could have prevented him from doing as he wished. You," and her voice deepened at that, grew spiteful, "Shouldn't blame me for not being able to control your own children."

"And who exactly should I blame, Emma." They were rounding each other now, carefully, two warriors bracing for battle, accessing weak spots in the other's armor.

Erik whimpered behind him, and Charles turned his head. He had no idea what was going on, what was happening. But Charles did. He could feel the air shift, subtle and toxic with anticipation. "Why," Erik asked, when Charles whispered in his ear. "Is this because of us."

Charles hesitated, then shook his head no. Emma's discontent, if you listened carefully enough, and Charles obviously hadn't or he would have noticed it earlier, even with her powers shielding her thoughts, had been there for a while now. Simmering quietly, and even now Father said, "Are we really going to do this over the youthful indiscretions of our children, Emma." In the distance, Charles could hear the thoughts of the rest of the pack, curious and wary, but all of them, to a fault, content to stay out of it.

Emma put one foot behind her, then another. She was circling around back to them, and Charles wasn't entirely sure what she was up to until she was close.

Then he heard her voice, clear in his head, and it was the first time she'd ever spoken to him telepathically, and it felt like slivers of ice in his head, her voice, and he couldn't concentrate on her words until it was almost too late.

Until Father was stepping dangerously close towards all three of them, and it became clear, and Emma's protection of him just fell away, as if it had never been there to begin with. _Now_ , Emma whispered.

_Now._

Both their minds, combined together. Emma had the finesse and the experience, but Charles, he had the larger untapped power, wild and strong.

Father froze, mid stride.

Charles rose, unsteadily, to his feet, dragging Erik along with him. Everything hurt, from just making Seb stay still. His mind, his heart, even the blood running through his veins were screaming, loudly and violently, as Seb fought back, and Charles could feel his power, the force of it, literally pure energy, pushing him backwards. He would have fallen if it weren't for Erik, who was telling him something in low, urgent tones. I can't hear you, he tried to say, but the words wouldn't come out. In the end Erik just touched his face and when he pulled his fingers back they came away red and bleeding. "I can't," he said finally, and when he opened his mouth blood poured into it, copper-hot.

Someone was screaming. It was Emma, in his head and outside of it as well. Buckling under the weight of Father's power, and they were both losing control, this was for nothing, they would all be punished here tonight, and Father was always very creative with his punishments. His knees buckled as he sagged into Erik's arms, but Erik was whispering, "All is good, Charles. All is good." He lay Charles gently down onto the ground, and Charles squinted through eyes filled with tears as he walked, slowly towards Father.

"Don't," Charles tried to yell, because this wasn't what he wanted, after all. Not this. Just to get away, the two of them. To start anew, someplace else, bide their time until Father saw fit to forgive them. "Erik, don't." It was a whisper, and a plea, and Erik heard him.

Erik heard him, and he turned back, and his eyes were as black as night as he smiled, and reached out, and plucked Father's heart out of his chest. Charles screamed, and screamed, he was dying, blood was gushing out of of him and the pain was unimaginable, impossible to bear, his vision dimmed and as he blinked all he could see was Erik, putting the still beating heart to his mouth and biting down.

The link broke, as soon as Father fell to the ground. Charles gasped and clutched at his chest, and he could hear Emma, laughing wildly in his mind, delirious with pain. _Out_ , he screamed at her, and she retreated, but crawled towards him on all fours instead, pressed her forehead to his. "He's dead," Charles said dully.

"Yes," Emma said, and she was happy, she was. She grinned and Charles flinched away. "You should be glad, Charles."

"No," Charles said. He wiped at his eyes and sat up carefully, spat out blood onto the ground. "It's not what I wanted."

There was a thud, the sound of a half-eaten heart falling to the ground. Erik walked towards the both of them, and fell to his knees. _You were right about him_ , Emma said, but Charles ignored her as Erik dragged him to his knees so they were chest to chest, and Erik wasn't happy, not like Emma was, but there was a serene sort of calm to him, pieces of his mind fragmented and floating without anchor. He kissed Charles then, lapped at his face with a rough tongue until Charles shook, and pulled away. "Why," he asked dizzily.

"It's what you wanted."

"No, no it wasn't."

"Then it's what I wanted." His voice was clear with conviction, and his smile was sharp. It faded as Charles continued to stare at him, satisfaction replaced with anger, then dissipating and leaving nothing but the calm, once again. "I'm not his anymore," he said. "Not yours, either."

Charles hitched in a breath, and swallowed. But Erik was a child still, and Emma said, _You know what to do_ , so he put his hand, so very gently, on the back of Erik's neck, and drew him close and held him until he capitulated, until he sighed and sagged into Charles' arms. "I love you," Charles said, and it would be enough for today. Erik nodded his head in assent, and fell quietly apart under the rush of affection.

**Author's Note:**

> Written only partly on a dare, and also for [this prompt](http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/6437.html?thread=9738021).


End file.
